


i'll set you on fire; because i'm on fire

by DeadCaffeineJunkie



Series: if i have to switch the lights off, i wanna switch them off with you [3]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-typical language, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Just a Little Rimming, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pornhub, So much kissing, Spit As Lube, Unbeta'd, amateur porn, poor communication
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 17:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadCaffeineJunkie/pseuds/DeadCaffeineJunkie
Summary: Brad and Ray finally get together after their tour in Afghanistan. Ray tells Brad he was the first guy he's ever had sex with, but if that really was Ray's first time, why is there a video of him on Pornhub?
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Ray Person, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Ray Person/Other(s)
Series: if i have to switch the lights off, i wanna switch them off with you [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151984
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20





	i'll set you on fire; because i'm on fire

**Author's Note:**

> Title from **‘Pink Maggit’** by **Deftones**
> 
> NB: there’s no underage sex in this fic, but Ray was only a few weeks into 18 when he was in adult film – it was all consensual and he knew what he was getting into, then that the tape would be distributed, but there’s still something predatory about the whole thing; he really only did it for the money, and he feels uncomfortable about it now.
> 
> In relation to that, Brad views the film and finds out it’s Ray halfway through but watches to the end, if that might be upsetting to some readers
> 
> There’s no dubcon either – both parties give consent throughout, the following fall out has nothing to do with coercion or any hidden non-consent
> 
> And Ray uses some ableist language (‘psychopath’) in canon-typical style, and virginity is a social construct, etc, etc
> 
> I think that’s all bases covered for now!

Brad’s heart was broken; that was just a fact. He didn’t have the volume within him left anymore to love another person, not after his former fiancée cracked him when she told him she was leaving him, and then drained him when she told him it was for his best friend. 

They’d been a little friend group since Brad had been 12. She’d been his girlfriend before any of them even knew what it was to be in a relationship. He’d been his best friend because Brad hadn’t understood that it was possible to love someone of the same sex until he’d been in high school. 

He was going to marry her, and his best friend was going to be his best man, and they’d still be friends years later when they were called ‘Uncle’ by each other’s kids. 

Well, he could still be called Uncle by his best friend’s kids, but now their mother would be the woman he’d been in love with. 

They were still friends. They still met up with him when he came back from deployment, they still hung out when he was Stateside and smiled together, drank and laughed together as though Brad was still whole and wasn’t further depleted every time he saw the love and guilt in both of them. 

So, Brad’s heart was broken and he had no interest in even trying to patch it back up; he thought he worked better when it was empty anyway. 

He wasn’t celibate by any means. He indulged in the months after the break up, meeting people in bars and clubs and usually going back to their place so that he could make a quick exit post-coitus. He avoided picking up athletic, blue-eyed brunettes but was otherwise indiscriminate. 

He explored a bisexual side of himself that had been mostly theoretic until then, and for a while found himself almost exclusively sleeping with men. None of his romantic liaisons were anything more than casual flings, and the longest one only stretched out over a three-day weekend. It was crucial for his career that no one found out he wasn’t 100% heterosexual. 

Brad had convinced himself that he’d truly used up his only chance at love on the woman who had dumped him; fucking never led to feelings. 

He didn’t even like Ray that much when the first time they’d met. He’d still been a teenager and Brad had found him obnoxious, cocky and loud. God, was he loud. Brad rarely actively disliked any of the new soldiers he came across, but Ray had been an exception. Brad would of course still look after him, the way he would any man on his team, but fuck, the kid set his teeth on edge. 

He’d been pretty sure that all Ray’s talking was an attempt to hide his nervousness and incompetence, but the more time they spent on recon beyond enemy lines in Afghanistan, the more he found that the constant talking was just how Ray was. There was a reason Brad’s former communications operator had recommended Ray for Brad’s team despite his being a Lance-Corporal – he could do anything with the radios and seemed to have the right frequencies, channels and call signs waiting on the tip of his tongue. 

He wasn’t a bad Marine either; he managed to keep up with everyone else despite the heavy radio equipment on his shoulders, looking comically huge on his small 5’9” frame. Brad could have done without the stimulant abuse that made Ray’s verbal diarrhoea worse, but he understood the need for help to stay awake on 30 hour days in enemy country. 

Brad hadn’t expected Ray to grow on him so much. They were often awake on watch together – it only made sense for the RTO and team leader to be on at the same time – and Brad found himself being more entertained than annoyed by Ray’s rambling. Recon Marines were smart as a rule, hitting 105 and up on the intelligence test, the Armed Service Vocational Aptitude Battery, but he was still surprised at the topics Ray could effortlessly cover. 

They had conversations that Brad wouldn’t have expected from a 19 year old grunt, and it had been a while since he’d met someone who seemed to be able to tell what he was thinking before he spoke; that last person had been his fiancée, and to a lesser extent his former best friend. 

And now, here was Ray; Brad almost forgot what it was like to have to ask for the things he needed because Ray had the ability to anticipate Brad’s needs in a manner that was almost eerie. 

There was a connection between them that seemed fated. As time went on, Brad began to realise that he was developing feelings for Ray that went beyond the scope of his position as his superior. They went past just enjoying hanging out with Ray and were different to the fondness he had for Pappy, for Rudy and Eric and Jacks. 

These feelings made him feel guilty and wrong, especially when he spent too much time looking at Ray and imagining him in bed. Or over the sofa. Or right there in the rocky sand of the Afghanistan landscape. 

He did his best to ignore the fact that he sometimes saw Ray looking back at him the same way. There was a friction between them that only grew deeper throughout their tour in Afghanistan, something that sometimes flared like a static shock and had Brad pulling away, sometimes being harder on Ray than was strictly warranted. 

Even if they had been able to act on anything between them out there in a 6-man team, there were still many reasons for Brad to hesitate; Ray was 6 years younger than him and not particularly mature for his age, and Brad was in a position of authority over him. That didn’t even mention the fact that Brad couldn’t be sure of Ray’s orientation, if the looks he caught were reflected interest or just admiration. 

They got to the end of their deployment without addressing the ‘thing’ between them. Even so, when they were back at Camp Pendleton and had finished decompression ready to go home, they were still reluctant to separate. 

Ray left for Missouri to see his family for a couple of weeks, but he still pestered Brad with phone calls and emails. When he came back to California halfway through his leave he was invited to stay with Brad until he had to move back into barracks. Ray actually hoped to move off base entirely; he had more options open to him now since he’d been promoted on his return from Afghanistan and was now a shiny new E-4. 

Money was going to be an issue though, and in the end, Brad just asked Ray to move in with him when they were stateside; he could stay in Brad’s guestroom and they could split the bills between them. 

Ray was almost more annoying as a houseguest than he’d been as part of his team. 

The Marine Corps drilled order and precision into new recruits; they could be punished with extra duties for untidy uniforms, something as minor as scuffed boots or improperly bloused trousers, and they’d have to redo their beds if they weren’t made to the Drill Instructors exacting standards. A crease in the top sheets could be enough to make the recruit have to do it all over again. 

These seemingly arbitrary rules made sense when the recruits graduated and the attention to detail drummed into them in training and Basic made them better Marines in the field.

And yet despite all this, Ray was almost as messy as he’d been in Afghanistan. His table manners improved when he wasn’t eating out of MRE packets like some kind of gannet, but he still managed to leave wet towels on the floor; his newly washed clothes lived in his laundry basket and his bedroom far from the standards expected in the barracks.

Brad suspected he did all of this on purpose out of spite for his former Drill Instructor, which was understandable, but why he had to torment _Brad_ at the same time he didn’t know. 

Ray listened to terrible music - they’d had a fight about it which ended in a ban on country music in Brad’s house – but Brad found that he liked having Ray in the house.

He didn’t feel lonely with Ray’s constant company, with that effervescence lighting up the house. He realised that now when he visited his ex-fiancée and best friend, it didn’t deplete him the way it had before. Something in him was healing and it was, impossibly, improbably, all because Ray was there. 

Brad still repressed anything he felt for Ray that wasn’t strictly platonic, but it grew more difficult to do since Ray had moved in with him. Now he saw him from time to time coming out of the bathroom after a shower, towel around his waist and those amateur tattoos standing out against his wet skin. He saw Ray sleepy and relaxed in the t-shirt/sweatpants combo he wore to bed. 

Even the innocent moments, Ray hanging out with him in the kitchen while he cooked, laughing at something when they watched TV, just lounging outside on the patio having a smoke, even these stoked the feelings of desire he was trying so hard to fight. 

He didn’t even know if Ray was attracted to guys; he told himself that the subtle flirtation Brad thought he sometimes caught from Ray was just something he was mistranslating; that in reality it meant nothing and was just Ray’s bizarre and gregarious nature.

And then, with a week left before their leave was up, Brad happened upon a video that changed everything. 

Brad’s visits to Pornhub had increased exponentially since Ray had moved in with him; he’d sit there late at night after Ray had gone to bed, headphones in but facing the door, just in case. It wouldn’t matter realistically if Ray did catch him jacking off to porn – Brad could count on one hand the number of times he’d caught Ray with his hand around his cock, and that was just five fingers too many. 

What Brad didn’t want Ray to see was the type of porn he chose to watch, all of them featuring slight, small built twinks with dark hair and dark eyes. He couldn’t let Ray see what he was looking at because he’d make the connection right away and that was a conversation he didn’t want to have. 

He felt furtive and a little dirty, the way he had when he was a teenager and trying to hide skin mags from his parents, but he just couldn’t stop; maybe he could work through this weird crush he had on Ray by channelling his feelings through porn. 

It hadn’t worked yet. 

He was lying in bed with his laptop, scrolling through the thumbnails until one caught his eye. It was another slim, dark haired guy, the preview showing a thin, pale body folded over itself with his legs up and over his head.

The video had a typically terrible title, _’Slutty barely-legal twink forced to come on his own face_ ’, but it was still enough to catch Brad’s attention. The film quality was awful, grainy and fuzzily pixelated against the crisp lines of the professional studio videos, typical for an amateur video and dated by a couple of years.

It opened halfway through the action, as though someone had decided to start filming on a whim. The slight man from the thumbnail was on his knees at the side of a bed where another man sat roughly fucking his face. There were two hands pulling the twink’s head down into his crotch, tufts of hair between his knuckles, so someone else had to be filming. 

Brad was frustrated that the angle of the film obstructed the view of the twink’s mouth, but the sounds coming from him were wet and choked and filthy. The guy holding his head in place made almost no noise, panting hard and occasionally groaning.

Brad worked himself up watching the blow job, stroking his hand up his bared cock slowly, stopping to rub his thumb over the head now and again. He moved his hand in time to the sound of the twink gagging and briefly checked the progress bar to see how much time he had, if this was going to come to an abrupt end and leave him hanging.

The man getting his dick sucked finally spoke as his movements became more fierce, frantic and erratic. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come in your whore mouth. Hold it in there. Hold it; don’t you dare fucking swallow it.”

His pelvis fucked forward hard a couple more times and then he tensed as he came, his hands visibly fisted tight in his partner’s dark hair. He pulled out of that mouth before he’d finished, just in time to come in a final stripe over the twink’s nose. 

The camera focused in on that face and Brad barely heard the man telling the kid to open his mouth and show him. The twink, all huge dark eyes and dishevelled, tangled hair, did so, his tongue pulled back to reveal a little pool of pearling come in his mouth; he swallowed it when he was told to, and then showed the camera that his mouth was empty when he was told to, and it was Ray. 

That was Ray on his knees, Ray’s face that was flushed with exertion, Ray’s big, dark eyes teary and watering from getting his throat fucked. 

He looked so young, just a baby. His hair was longer than Brad had ever seen it, all matte black and fluffy and his eyes wide and startled looking. He didn’t even have all his tattoos yet, just the stars on his shoulders looking even more sketchy than they did in the present. 

Brad couldn’t stop watching as Ray was pushed over onto his back, his legs hiked up over his head for him in a show of flexibility that Ray still possessed even now, some years later. He was held in that position by his ankles and told to reach up and jack himself off. It didn’t take him long to come down onto his own face, adding to the mess that had been left there before. 

He was released and he laid back out, panting fitfully to get his breath back, licking his mouth clean; it was more a dazed reaction than anything salacious. Regardless, just before the video ended Brad’s orgasm blindsided him; he came hard up over his stomach and then down over his knuckles. 

He came back to himself slowly and then the regret began to sink in. He felt unsettled and sleazy about what he’d just done, coming to porn featuring his best friend. He closed the laptop with his clean hand and climbed off his bed, disappearing into his en-suite to try and wash away the truth of his actions.

Washing didn’t do anything. Every time he looked at Ray - when he was lounged on the couch with his legs over the arm, when he was eating or drinking anything, when he came back to the house after a run, red-faced and sweating - all he could see were images from that Pornhub video. 

He started avoiding Ray around the house, unable to look him in the eye. Of course, Ray noticed and at first gave Brad space. After a couple of days of this though, he started subtly trying to find out what Brad’s problem was, by asking Brad what his problem was. 

Brad didn’t have a good answer other than he was having trouble repairing his motorbike; he claimed he was waiting on a part and getting more and more frustrated by the day and that he hadn’t wanted to take that out on Ray. 

Ray accepted that answer, but Brad had the feeling that he wasn’t buying it. 

Things seemed to go back to normal after this conversation, with Brad making an effort to try and be around Ray a little more while also not looking at Ray like he’d seen porn of him getting face-fucked. 

His plan backfired on him one night when they were lounging around on the sofa, demolishing a cheese pizza between them and watching trash TV. Brad kept flicking glances over to Ray, who was pretty distracting licking up the tomato sauce and melted cheese running down his chin. 

“I feel bad for you, Ray.” He said, straight faced. 

Ray looked around at him questioningly, his mouth still working around a slice of pizza. 

“The way you were abandoned by your hick sibling-parents in the middle of a whiskey-tango trailer park and raised by inbred, rabid raccoons, yet still failed to grasp even their simplistic animal level of table manners.”

Ray scowled at him and swallowed and Brad tried to be casual as he looked away. 

“Fuck you, homes, no one eats pizza neatly. Except psychopaths and Officers.” 

Brad tried to hide his grin by keeping his focus on the TV but failed, calling up an answering smirk from Ray, who leaned out and tossed his pizza crust into the half-full box. 

Ray leaned back in his seat, grabbing up his beer bottle from the side-table and taking a swig before belching, and Brad wondered what had gone wrong with him that he still found this man attractive; maybe he’d contracted some type of mutant variant of malaria from his time in Afghanistan. 

They watched TV in silence for a little while, as comfortable as Brad could make it while still stealing glances at Ray now and again. He could feel Ray looking back at him sometimes and hoped that he didn’t look as self-conscious as he felt. He tried to fight the compulsion, but fuck, he just wanted to look at him while they had the excuse to be relatively close. 

He looked over for the nth time and caught Ray looking back at him expectantly. Brad, caught, couldn’t look away but he couldn’t say anything either, couldn’t get his mouth to work. 

Ray might have seen the panic in Brad’s face. Maybe he was just tired of this watching-me-watching-you dance; he’d never had patience when he wasn’t in a battlefield. Whatever it was, something in him snapped first. 

He reached over and grabbed the remote to switch the TV off. In the silence that suddenly dropped on them, and even though he wasn’t certain that Brad felt anything for him, he broached the subject by boldly straddling Brad’s lap - he’d never been backwards about being forwards. 

Later on, Brad would reflect on Ray’s impulsive nature and if it was stupidity or courage that let him throw himself headfirst into trouble. He’d also wonder if all of Ray’s annoying behaviours had simply been his version of flirting, but discarded the idea because he knew that was simply how Ray moved through the world – as aggravating as possible to man and beast.

Ray stared down at Brad with something that was almost anger in his eyes. “Stop fucking staring at me.” He ordered, frustrated. “Fuck, you’re such a fucking pussy, Brad! Stop staring and fucking _do something_ already.” 

For all his seeming confidence, Brad could see still the fear under Ray’s actions. After all of Brad’s quiet lusting and pining, in the end it was Ray who put himself out there. He was all worried big eyes, uncertain under his bravado, one hand resting flat on Brad’s chest. All Brad could do was move in to kiss him, to take away the uncharacteristic trepidation in Ray’s face.

It wasn’t the kiss he thought it would be. It was less a revelation and more a sudden awareness of something that had been patiently waiting to be found. It was a little disgusting, both of them tasting like cheese pizza and beer, but that taste faded as they licked it out of each other’s mouths until they just tasted like themselves. 

Ray was the tiny force of nature he always was, kneeling up in Brad’s lap so that Brad actually had to tilt his head up to kiss him; not very far, but enough that he still noticed it. 

Ray’s position made it easy for Brad to reach out and grab a good hold of Ray’s ass, gripping hard and pulling Ray tight against him. Ray made a noise into Brad’s mouth that Brad had never heard from him and it made him bite at Ray’s lips.

They pulled apart to breathe and Ray panted out a soft _‘fuck’_ , dazed and breathless. Brad brought his hands up to cradle Ray’s face and bring it in for another long kiss. With Brad’s grip on his ass released, Ray sat down into Brad’s lap and rolled his hips against Brad’s stomach, moaning helplessly into the kiss when he felt Brad hard and big under his ass. 

“Oh my god Brad, oh my god.” He broke away, dropping his forehead against Brad’s neck, still rubbing up against Brad in a way that made Brad smile at his eagerness. 

“Yeah?” Brad teased, smug, humping back up into Ray’s movements. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Ray panted into Brad’s shoulder, and all just over some juvenile grinding. 

Brad shoved his hands down the back of Ray’s sweatpants, palms to bare skin, curling his fingertips into the muscle there. An abstract thought drifted briefly through his head, that there was little fat in the ass he was grabbing and that maybe Ray needed to eat more to match his metabolism, but that thought was quickly replaced by the reality of Ray in his lap.

He leaned forward and bit at the stretch of Ray’s throat, grazing his teeth there in a way that brought up faint red marks on the skin, palming Ray’s ass again. Ray didn’t know if he was coming or going, pushing back into Brad’s hands and held in place by Brad’s mouth. 

Brad took a wicked kind of glee at confusing Ray between two sources of pleasure until his words stopped and all he could do was breathe open-mouthed and bite on his lip. Brad remembered that mouth open and rubbed raw and pooling with come and he wanted it for himself. 

“Ray. Ray.” He said twice to get his attention before he removed his hands from Ray’s sweatpants and settled him down. Ray looked back at Brad dizzily. “Get on your knees.” 

Ray slid down to the floor with an easy alacrity which told Brad that Ray knew what he was doing. 

Brad leaned down to kiss Ray again, tilting his face up and holding it between his hands, rubbing his thumbs against Ray’s cheekbones and against the place where his dimples made an appearance. Ray put his own hands over Brad’s, reaching up to bridge the distance between them. 

Brad didn’t know how long they kissed for, but it was long enough that he felt the stretch in his back when he sat up again. He slid his hands up into Ray’s hair close against his skull, using his grip to push Ray’s head back down between his legs. Brad held him still while letting go with one hand to pull down his own jogging bottoms, enough to bare his cock and balls. Ray’s hands tightened on Brad’s thighs.

Brad slid his hand down to the base of his cock and brought Ray’s head close, rubbing it against Ray’s cheek and then across to his mouth. He didn’t have to tell Ray to look up at him because he already was; his dark eyes couldn’t get any darker, but there was a heat in them that Brad had never seen before. 

Brad pushed his hand smoothly up the length of his dick and cradled the tip in his hand, now able to press his thumb into the corner of Ray’s mouth to open it up.

“Take it Ray.” He almost asked, didn’t quite order, his voice low and soft and inevitable. 

Ray licked his lips and then took the head of Brad’s cock into that clever little mouth, pulling back once to tease his tongue against the slit before he just sank right down. He took it halfway, bobbed almost off and then went deeper, almost to the base. 

He kept his eyes locked on Brad’s until Brad groaned and tipped his head back against the sofa cushion, pushing gently with small movements into the mouth he’d been thinking about since seeing that video on Pornhub. Ray swallowed around him and Brad gently pulled him in closer, pushing in deeper, his hands curving over Ray’s ears, against the back of Ray’s skull. 

He saw Ray’s hand go down to rub the heel of his hand against his cock through his sweatpants and pulled Ray back.

“Take them off.” He allowed, stroking his spit wet cock while he waited for Ray. 

Ray took the moment to catch his breath and pushed the waistband of his sweatpants down his legs. He wriggled them over his knees and then down his calves and off; it either didn’t occur to him to get up and take them off, or he wasn’t going to do what he hadn’t been told to. 

“You can touch yourself when you get your mouth back on my cock.” Brad told him, feeling out the dynamic between them but feeling sure that Ray liked the direction this was going if the almost startled, partially stifled little noise he made and his leaking dick had anything to say about it. 

Ray obediently leaned back in and took Brad’s cock down his throat again, unhesitating. Brad stroked his hand through Ray’s hair, watching Ray close his eyes like there was nothing else he’d rather be doing. Brad watched Ray’s hand move between his legs, the movement slow like he was teasing himself, like his cock didn’t matter as much as Brad’s in his mouth. 

Seeing Ray turned on just from sucking Brad off made him hot, made him buck forward exploratively and hit the back of Ray’s throat, making him gag a little. Brad had been telling himself to go slow, but he’d seen proof of what Ray could take. Why shouldn’t Ray do that for him? 

He bucked his hips again and then again in quick succession. Ray choked, convulsed, and Brad saw the contraction of his stomach, his arm falter where his hand paused its movement on his own cock. 

“Ray, don’t come.”

Brad didn’t give him an extra moment, fucking in hard until Ray’s chin was slick, his mouth sloppy and Brad’s dick was sopping. When Brad came to a stop, Ray looked up at him again and Brad had to hold the base of his dick hard when he saw the track of a tear running down Ray’s cheek. 

His eyes were watering and more tears beaded over when he blinked, all of it completely involuntary – Brad gave himself a moment to wonder if he could bring Ray to genuine tears, just out of his mind and overwhelmed with pleasure that scalded him. 

Brad eased back out of Ray’s mouth, seeing it red and wet like he remembered. They were both breathing hard for air, Ray gasping for his breath and coughing a couple of times before he looked up at Brad with a cocky smile that curled up one corner of his mouth and brought out that elusive dimple. 

Brad smoothed Ray’s hair down in an affectionate gesture and leaned in again to kiss him, tasting himself in Ray’s mouth among all that spit. When he sat back up, he left one large hand against Ray’s cheek. 

“That was good, Ray.” He praised, and didn’t miss how Ray reddened a little at it. 

“Yeah?” Ray asked, his voice hoarse, one hand curled stationary on the hardness between his legs, still. 

“Yeah. You’re _really_ fucking good at that.” 

Ray laughed like Brad had said something funny, brushing off the compliment. 

Brad considered him for a moment before he stood to push his damp sweatpants off, leaving him bare from the waist down, like Ray. 

“Take your top off.” He told Ray as he did the same, pulling his t-shirt up and over his head and letting it fall on top of Ray’s clothes, unbothered by the mess for once. He used a foot to encourage Ray, now nude too, to push his legs out comfortably, standing between them once there was room for him. 

He went down to his knees between Ray’s open legs, prowling up over Ray and pushing at him gently to lie back as he did. When he had Ray supine under him he slid one of his hands against Ray’s heated skin from his prominent hip, over his waist and then over the harder muscle of his chest. 

He paused a moment to thumb over one of the star tattoos he’d seen in the porn video, clearly touched up to try and correct them at some point. He traced his index finger over the lettering of ‘No Dice’ that had been added at some point before Brad knew Ray, appropriate for Ray’s obstinate personality. 

Ray reached and felt up the hard, Marine-built muscle of Brad’s arm where it propped Brad up over him, squeezing sinew and catching Brad’s attention back. Brad studied him for a minute, Ray grinning up at him, then crawled up Ray’s body to plant his hands flat on either side of Ray’s head. 

He did a push down and brought his body down in a line against Ray’s, tall enough that he was able to still be head and shoulders over Ray’s position, bending his head down to kiss him and catching Ray’s playfully derisive chuckle between their mouths.

Ray hung one of his ankles over Brad’s leg, one of his hands still curved around Brad’s bicep and impatiently grabbing at the back of Brad’s neck to pull him into a deeper kiss. He bit at Brad’s lip with an assertiveness that he hadn’t shown until now and only let go when he had to laugh properly. 

“What’re we gonna do here, Brad?” he asked, amused just by Brad wanting him so badly, stroking against the back of Brad’s neck. 

Brad reached down to Ray’s cock, still holding himself up on one arm, and stroked it in smooth motions from base to tip just to wind Ray up. 

Ray chirped a little gasp, then unhooked the leg he had over Brad’s calf to kick Brad in the thigh with the knobby round of his heel. 

“Oh, you little shit.” Brad said, laughing. He tilted his head and bit Ray right over the star tattoo he’d rubbed over before, making Ray yelp and squirm. 

“You’re a confused fucking vampire Brad!” he exclaimed, cut off when Brad took his mouth with his own again. 

Ray bit at Brad’s mouth again in retaliation for a moment but soon allowed the kiss to be gentled, and he’d maintain that Brad shifting to rub his cock up against Ray’s had nothing to do with. 

Ray disengaged to breathe, all squashed under Brad’s stupidly broad solid body, and made an incredibly slutty sound when Brad ground up. 

“I wanna fuck you Ray.” Brad didn’t really ask. “Let me fuck you.” He wanted to see that same dazed look on Ray as he’d shown licking his own come off his face in that video. He wanted to have it and keep it to himself, jealous of everyone else who’d ever seen Ray like that, like this.

“Yes, Brad, yes, please.” Ray consented immediately, eagerly, letting his legs loll apart, welcoming. 

“Your last check came back clean?” He asked, grateful to the military for once for the policy testing them for STDs after deployment. 

Ray nodded with enthusiasm and Brad trusted that he’d say if he’d slept with anyone since; he was kind of pleased that Ray hadn’t. 

“Yeah, me too.” He assured. 

“Fuck yeah. Come on Brad, fuck me raw.” 

They didn’t have lube and Brad didn’t want to get up to get it, didn’t want to break momentum. He stroked Ray’s spit off his wet cock a couple of times, added his own spit into his hand and slid it, slick but not slick enough, down between Ray’s legs, down over his hole.

He pushed against the resistance there gently; he was just feeling it out, how tight Ray was, how willing he was to take a finger in. He looked down as he worked his finger into Ray’s body up to the second knuckle, though he couldn’t really see from the angle he was at. 

He looked back up to Ray’s face to see how he was coping and found that he’d thrown an arm over his eyes, the corner of his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. His other hand rested on Brad’s shoulder and squeezed a little now and again. 

Brad didn’t think this would be enough lube, but he’d seen Ray take it hard in that video and supposed that Ray was used to rough treatment. Even so, he wanted to open Ray up a little more than barely one finger. 

He gripped hold of Ray’s hips and lifted them, first onto his lap, and then up so that he could bring his mouth down against Ray’s hole. He wasn’t stretching Ray far enough that his legs were up over his head, but it was close enough that his cock twitched to see it. 

Ray let Brad manipulate him where he wanted, moving his arm above his head so that he could watch Brad. His expression was unguarded, open to whatever Brad wanted to do; it was almost more than Brad could take. 

He spat directly down between Ray’s legs and then rested one of Ray’s knees over his free shoulder so that he could finger it into him. He did this again, and a third time before he tilted his head further down and licked into Ray. 

Ray gasped, high and needy and trying to hold himself still as Brad tongued him open. It was an awkward position, and Brad might not have been able to hold Ray up long enough to get Ray relaxed for him if he hadn’t been a Marine. 

As it was, Brad’s neck would be sore later on, but it would be worth it. He felt Ray give under his mouth and then tried his fingers once more, managing two after some pushing in and against the grip of Ray’s body. He spat yet again to ease the way and only tried a third finger when two became easy. 

Ray was being good below him, doing what he could to let Brad open him up, his fingers curling up and then opening again in some kind of flinch when Brad went a little deep, a little too fast; his lip was chewed red and swollen and Brad wanted to get into him as fast as he could just to be able to lean down and kiss him. 

“Okay?” he asked finally, three fingers in Ray and his mouth a little dry from spitting into him – there was something in that which made him feel possessive. 

Ray nodded and Brad let his hips down, legs spread on either side of his lap. He leaned over and kissed Ray the way he’d been impatient for, lush and indulgent; he liked the way Ray gently laid a palm against his cheek when they did. 

Brad pulled away only to look down and hold the tip of his cock against the indent of Ray’s hole, flicking a glance up at Ray before pushing in slow, coaxing Ray’s body open around him. 

He kept looking up to Ray, making sure the poor prep wasn’t hurting him. Ray was looking back each time Brad did, his eyes wide; he looked vulnerable and a little bit overwhelmed and Brad lifted his hand for a moment to press a kiss to the back of it. 

It made Ray breathe out something between a laugh and a scoff, but it pushed back that slightly lost look that Brad could only imagine came from the reality of them finally fucking. 

If the kiss had been to relax Ray into this, Brad couldn’t explain the way he pushed his fingers in between Ray’s more slender ones and held onto his hand as he pushed further in. 

Ray’s fingers clutched at his and Brad stopped when Ray made a high groan, but Ray was nodding back at him. “It’s good, it’s okay, keep going.” 

Brad bent down to kiss him yet again – he’d never been a big kisser, but there was something about taking Ray’s mouth with his own – and then leaned back a little, able to watch Ray’s face when he moved forward until half his length was inside Ray. Ray’s body was indecently tight around Brad’s cock, and Brad paused to let both of them get used to it. 

“Are you always this quiet?” Brad asked, finding that he actually liked the way fucking made Ray lose his words. 

Ray was breathing like he had after their first 25m swim in water survival training. “Fuck, Brad.” He groaned, his head tipped back. “Are you all the way in? You’re fucking huge, how, how are you so-? Oh my god Brad, you feel so fucking big.”

He sounded completely untethered and Brad wondered if he just kept quiet during sex because he sounded like _this_ when he didn’t. 

“You’ve got half of it, Ray.” Brad tried to reassure, and failing if the sound from Ray meant anything. Brad felt a little cocky – pun intended – to know how he measured up to Ray’s other partners, clearly better endowed than anyone he’d had before. 

Brad released Ray’s hand and went down on his elbows on either side of Ray, able to kiss the little whimpers out of Ray’s mouth as he rocked slowly into him; he went a little deeper each time until Ray was taking it all. 

He sat back again, his mouth as red as Ray’s was, the heat between them making him flushed. Ray was sweat soaked, his hair in little tufts that made Brad want to sink his teeth into Ray’s throat for some reason. 

Ray’s eyes were closed, his teeth clenched and his muscles were tense, his hands gripped against the floor on either side of him. 

Brad’s eyebrow furrowed, a little concerned. “Ray?” 

Ray took a breath and shook his head. “Brad, don’t stop.” 

Brad rubbed a hand against Ray’s stomach like he was quieting a horse. “You’re sure?” he checked again. 

Ray looked up at him and scowled. “Fucking fuck me already Brad.” 

Well, that was clear. Brad pulled his hips back and then slammed into Ray in response to his snarky attitude, thrusting it right out of Ray as he trembled with a sharp cry instead. 

Ray reached up to Brad’s arms and held on as Brad did as he’d asked and fucked him. He moved hard and relentless, thrilled at the sound of his hips slamming against Ray’s body, the way it shook him every time, the unavoidable sharp little noises Ray was too helpless to hold in. 

Ray’s hands were occupied so Brad reached down to stroke his cock for him, rough and in time to his thrusts. Ray came before Brad did, up to just below his sternum. He tensed so hard that Brad had to stop inside him, grimacing at the constriction. Ray was just as shattered, shuddering as he came down and relaxed, letting Brad move again more cautiously. 

He looked down at Ray while he fucked into him in long, deep, slow pushes, and there was that glazed, disoriented look in his eyes that Brad had wanted to put there himself. It was that, and how pliant Ray had become, the dry sobs his breath came in that had Brad driving in hard, speeding up and coming inside Ray. 

“Fuck, fuck Ray, fuck.” He panted, trying to keep himself upright. 

Ray shifted a little, stilling at the feel of Brad softening in him. “Jesus Brad, how much did you come in me?” he asked, trying for playfully annoyed but his voice just came out shaky. 

Brad, still breathing hard because all his Marine training apparently went out of the window when he had sex, sat back and gingerly pulled out of Ray, conscious of the little wince he caused. 

“I’m so sorry.” He said, on the cusp of insincere. He lay down half on top of Ray and half by his side, rubbing at Ray’s thighs to get him to lie his legs out again and stretching up to kiss him. Ray was trembling like he couldn’t stop himself. 

Brad curved his hand around the back of Ray’s neck and pulled him up a little into a kiss. Ray put a damp palm against the side of Brad’s flushed face and they lost track of the time for a little while just kissing and tracing their hands against each other’s skin, the curves and planes of their bodies. 

Eventually Ray’s shaking stopped and they began to get cold.

“Brad, deal with this.” He demanded, spurring Brad to bite him on the shoulder, but nevertheless get up to get them a couple of towels to clean up with. He threw one onto Ray’s face making him sputter indignantly, wiped himself clean and then helped Ray clean off. 

Ray winced when Brad cleaned down between his thighs where Brad’s come was still leaking out of him; it was a sight that almost distracted Brad from Ray’s discomfort.

“Are you hurt?” Brad asked, concerned that he’d miscalculated Ray’s reactions somewhere. 

Ray shrugged one shoulder and that alone let Brad know that he was. 

“Jesus Ray, why didn’t you say anything? I would have stopped.” Brad asked, a little annoyed that Ray had kept that quiet but only because a panicky guilt lay cold in his chest for doing this to him. 

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t want.” Ray assured immediately. “I just… it’s supposed to hurt a bit, right?” 

Brad’s eyebrows creased as he tried to make sense of that, trying to think over the howling rage at whoever had fucked Ray and hurt him then told him that was normal.

“No, it’s not. Not unless you like it that way.” He hated that he hadn’t stopped to find out, too eager, too desperate to make his fantasies reality, basing his interpretation of Ray’s responses on the video he’d seen. 

But Ray hadn’t said stop at any point, had asked for it in fact. “Do you like it when it hurts?” he asked, tentative in a way that was unusual for him. He’d been so caught up in everything that he hadn’t stopped to think to ask about any of this. He’d remedy that as soon as possible, but he didn’t think that would assuage his guilt. 

Ray shrugged again but couldn’t meet Brad’s eyes. 

Brad thought it was maybe embarrassment – he didn’t think Ray had the ability to feel embarrassed, but then he’d never slept with Ray before either. 

“Hey, it’s okay if you do. It’s not like it’s unheard of, or even a niche kink. A lot of people like that kind of thing.” 

Ray huffed a laugh at Brad’s discomfort. “I mean, I guess I liked it? I don’t know Brad, I don’t have much to compare it to, you know? Don’t get all weird about it.” 

That hit Brad in the brain like a Ka-Bar. “But you’ve been fucked before Ray.” He said, hoping that if he phrased it as a statement it would be true. 

Ray ran a hand over his face and up through his hair, sitting up with a little difficulty. “Well, I mean… not really?” Brad seemed to stare right through him and he scrabbled to explain himself, even though he knew he didn’t have to. 

“I mean, I wasn’t the most popular kid in high school, even if I had been into girls, despite the shitty band I was in. ‘Me or Society’.” He added with a self-mocking laugh. “Then I signed up and there wasn’t much time between going through Recruit Training and up to BRC to fuck around, and it wasn’t exactly easy being gay and in the military. Then Afghanistan happened-” he shrugged again. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Brad.”

Anything but that; anything but the fact that Brad had been the first time Ray had sex and it was without lube. He’d gone in with spit and no more consideration for Ray than asking if he was okay a handful of times. 

Brad had been certain his heart had been drained out, but if that was the case then what was in there that could hurt like this? He didn’t know how to apologise, how to make this up to Ray who was still sitting up and wiping off his stomach again, just to look busy and avoid looking at Brad. 

What could he say? ‘I’m sorry, I should have stopped and used proper lube? I shouldn’t have just gone into you with spit? I thought you liked it just because you didn’t say anything?’ 

But he’d made all those assumptions, as awful as they were, because he’d seen what Ray had taken in that porn video. And Ray had just said he’d never been with anyone, so what was going on? He didn’t know why Ray would lie to him, but he was stung that Ray had. 

“Wait, wait a minute.” He started, pointing at Ray accusatorily, feeling anger collide with the guilt inside him. “If you’ve never done anything, why the fuck is there a video of you on the internet sucking dick like you were trying to get your brains fucked out?”

Ray stilled like someone had hit pause on him, unchanging except for all the blood visibly rushing out of his face, so fast that he swayed and had to reanimate just to grip hold of the sofa to steady himself. Brad had seen him in Afghanistan, through firefights and within a literal footprint of being discovered by enemy elements, but he’d never seen Ray like this. 

“What.” Ray said bluntly. He looked like he might throw up and Brad had to remind himself that he was angry about being lied to so that he didn’t try to help. 

“I saw you. On your knees for some guy on a bed, letting them film you swallowing come like you loved it, coming all over your own face. So why lie to me, Ray? Why fuck with my head?” Ray knew Brad had been betrayed before, but he still did this. 

Ray was breathing like he couldn’t get a whole lungful, fast and choked. He reached over to their pile of clothes in a flurry of movement, snagging the first t-shirt that he found in his hands and tugging it on. 

Brad watched him drag some sweatpants from the floor over to himself too and only realised what Ray was doing when he staggered up, fell down onto the couch and started pulling them on. “I need to get out of here.”

“Ray-”

“Fuck off Brad.” Ray spat, absolutely furious. He stood to pull the sweatpants up and then limped to the front door. “Fuck off and fuck you.” He snarled as he pushed his feet into his trainers sockless and slammed out the door with a crash that shook the doorframe.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this had to be two chapters, chapter two coming soon!


End file.
